Monday, December 1, 2008

...And Sometimes There Are Bones.

Well, I'm the type of person that likes to sit around and talk about how many cool things I did in college and how fucking bad ass I was, and because I was so bad ass you should automatically assume that I am still bad ass after I told you a story of this one time in college when I was a bad ass who instigated and initiated all sorts of bad assery.

I have friends of the same variety. We are extremely cool.

You would hate us.

In fact, we are so very cool that we throw giant parties for ourselves and basically act like we're still in college, except now we like, have to clean up after those parties. Then we go home and walk our dogs and relieve the babysitter, because living in a paper house of cigarette butts, baff, and broken bottles isn't as appealing as it was at the turn of the century.

And now when we shotgun beers, we don't always finish the can. Sometimes we pretend it was empty and throw the can onto the lawn in a fit of fictional post-chugging ecstasy, because shotgunning beers isn't as fulfilling as it was at the turn of the century.

And now when we have flippy cup tournaments, people look at us like we're those people. And when we sharpee-in the team names on the double-elimination bracket chart and Muffy yells, "We're playing first to five," everyone groans, because they know that means "best of nine" and in the foreseeable future they're gonna be passed out in their own bile n' urine, and they're not looking forward to bragging about it at the office on Monday. Because alcoholism isn't as acceptable as it was at the turn of the century.

And now when we throw a theme party, half the attendees are too cool to dress like actual superheroes/villains. Because it's lame. They have no respect for the hardcore partiers who painted themselves blue, or bought gold heeled thigh-high boots, or sprayed their hair pink and carved bones out of styrofoam with their bare hands. What they don't know is that lame is the new cool. Seriously, people, do I have to tell you everything? So dressing up in a costume isn't as hilarious as it was at the turn of the century.

Is this because eight years ago we were all broke as fuck and refused to waste a single drop of High Life? Is it because finally, we understand what people mean when they sigh and grab their forehead and confess, shakily, "Man, I just can't drink like I used to"? Is it because when we see people and brag about this sweet flippy cup party to our old friends they give us the crazy eye and say, "You guys still do that?"

So we don't throw as many parties as we did at the turn of the century.

But on Saturday, yes. There was party. And when I didn't win the flippy cup tournament, it was uneventful, but extremely fun. Muffy had to point it out to me all snidely, and until there was mass mockery. "Dude, how fucking pissed are you, Ross?"

But with my costume came a plethora of bones that I chiseled and painted all fucking day on Saturday with astounding accuracy, and it wasn't until everyone else saw me covered with femurs that I learned that I just looked like I pocketed a bunch of dildos.

It didn't help that I think I'm hilarious and snatched every opportunity to make a joke about bones. It was funny for about never.

"I am dominating this game. I can feel it in my bones."

"Wanna bone?"

"Bone is the new blurg."

"I am the Bone Collector."

Like I said, unfunny. Next time I get hammered and make bone jokes, they'll be funny.



Anonymous said...

so yeah, i didn't brag about the flippy cup tournament to my coworkers. probably because i feared the disdain in their eyes. but in my heart i was part of the guild, descendant of the gummy bears galactica and accepted the mantle of greatness. even though we loss. i challenge anyone to have a more awesome night than us.
sors to rossi that i want a more perfect union. someday my drunkeness will be used for good rather than evil. and only she understands this.

paperback reader said...

I do remember going to a few parties recently where flip cup was played, and wondering when we're officially too old for this. I just threw the ball directly at my opponents, and said, "I only play to drink. Make one, Nancy boys."

It was less funny circa time 14.

Also, I have no idea who that character is, which makes me very, very happy for my life.

Anonymous said...

Nothing like a bracket on a piece of paper to make me feel like the competitive jock I never was.

Pocketed dildos. If you're ever looking for another blog name...

(PS: My verification word is "mulcha". It sounds dirty and fun.)

Anonymous said...

hey I just googled your photo. we have the same hair

Anonymous said...

From this point forward I shall believe you made that lovely Wiki entry. And will probably have nightmares that you've died your hair pink and are trying to stab me with a dildo.

Rassles said...

MoLinder: Seriously, reading that again...I don't think even I understand. You gotta stop getting drunk on Mondays.

Pisols: Unfortunately, I stopped reading X-men after I moved out of my parents basement, so I can't give you any proper updated info. (I know. You're hurting inside.)

Ginny: Ooooohhh...yes.

Nurse: Oh my god. No. I don't get embarrassed about pictures, except for the ones that pull up when you fucking google me. I hate Fraya for those.

Mongo: Oh, it's pink hair spray. And it's covering fucking everything I own.

derfina said...

Heh. You said snatched.

Gypsy said...

I had my first real hangover in a long, long while on Friday. Grease helped. But I really can't drink like I used to before the turn of the century.

Anonymous said...

um, the part about flippy cup makes sense. the more perfect union bit? yeah even i'm not sure what i meant. it's time to dry out.

Bluestreak said...

I would love to have hung out with you at the turn of the century.

Your parties sound like they kick ass and it sucks to be one of those boring people that can't hold their liquor anymore.

Mister Crowley said...

Has anyone ever told you you look a bit like Ozzy?

renalfailure said...

I think you needed Marrow's flattop to truly pull the costume together.

Or you need a simpler theme party... like Film Noir Poker Night. That's a personal favorite of mine.

Rassles said...

Derfina (Derf? I hear that giving people nicknames is a form of claiming ownership and bullying. Can I still call you Derf? So that way I can like, own you?): Yes I did.

Gypsy: You lucky bastard. Welcome to every morning for the rest of my life.

Mo: But...but...want beer now.

Blues: But holding liquor is a catch-22. High expenses.

Crow: Has anyone ever told you you look like a douchebag?

RF: I sincerely agree, but even I don't have the backbone for that.

Mister Crowley said...

Aww. Hon, tell me something I don't know ;)

But seriously.

Feisty Democrat said...

Maybe you should bone up on your jokes. I'll bet fewer people laugh at my brilliant jokes than yours. That doesn't deter me any from making them, though.

Trouble said...

I STILL think I'm cool because of the girl I was in college, and still am, on the inside, underneath this 42-year-old woman that I'm wearing around these days for laughs and giggles.

But I SO can't keep up in drinking contests anymore. 42-year-old livers SUCK ASS.

Rassles said...

Crow: I refuse to listen to you until you write another blog. Take that, ransom.

Math: Boning up has always been a problem for me.

Trouble: You are definitely still cool. And like so many others your age, older than me.